


2 AM

by vtn



Category: Matthew Good Band
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-15
Updated: 2007-01-15
Packaged: 2017-11-17 16:25:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/553563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vtn/pseuds/vtn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Used to shout up from outside, wake you up while you were sleeping.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	2 AM

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still about 95% convinced that It's Been A While Since I Was Your Man is about them. I mean come on.

If you told Dave to make a list of all the ways Matt has turned up at his feet, half-insane and incoherent, you'd keep him busy for an hour at least, he's thinking.

He pulls his socks on. He eyes the raindrops on the window and takes his socks off. He rolls up the cuffs of his sweatpants. He resists the urge to lean his head out the window and shout "shut the fuck _up_!"

Instead he takes the elevator down to ground level, where there are flashing lights and sirens and rain, and Matt shouting himself hoarse. Dave rubs his eyes and pushes open the door, steps out onto the cold, hard sidewalk.

Matt's in a track jacket and jeans and unlaced hi-tops, face pointed upward into the rain. Water (and by Dave's observations, fucking _freezing_ water) is running through his hair, around his nose, down into his shirt collar.

"Dave!" Matt shouts, his voice gravelly. "Listen to me! I'm sorry!" Dave flinches, grits his teeth, and puts a hand on Matt's shoulder.

"I'm right here."

In slow-mo, Matt's head lowers and turns to face Dave, who can practically hear joints creaking.

"Oh," he says softly.

"You're going to ruin my carpet."

"Oh."

"Don't talk anymore."

"I'm not." Matt's lips move but no sound comes out. "Stupid idea anyway."

\---

This is how Dave gets woken up at 2 AM. It's a fairly normal occurrence.

\---

Dave has done this more times than he cares to count, and so it's pretty much down to a science. Okay, maybe it's never gone this far before, but it was a logical step, Dave figures. One day he's finding Matt passed out in the shower, the next he's finding Matt shouting up to him from the sidewalk. This is Matt, and this is what he does.

"Remind me again how I got here?" Matt says as he towels his hair off, leaving it with the hedgehog effect.

"I almost killed you earlier today—well, yesterday now, since it's two in the morning—and apparently your preferred method of apologizing to me was shouting it at me in the middle of the night."

"I don't even know what we were mad about, but I'm sure it wasn't very important."

"No, probably not. I still can't feel my feet, though, so now I need another apology."

Matt heaves a sigh, rolls his eyes to high heaven.

"I'm sorry you were too much of a lazy fuck to put some shoes on and apparently decided not getting your socks wet was more important than your personal health."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm sorry you were too much of a lazy fuck, et cetera, et cetera, sir." Shaking the rest of the water from his hair, Matt flops down on Dave's bed. "Give me fifteen minutes and I'll go home."

"Don't worry about it," Dave says, sitting down next to Matt. "You can stay here. Just no more shouting."

\---

This is how they have ignored this problem for years. In case it fucks something up, they don't plan on changing. There's a lot that could get fucked up, you see.

\---

"I need to move into your apartment permanently," says Matt as he burrows down under Dave's comforter. "It would be a definite improvement, and save me walking distance."

With a wry smile, Dave rubs circles on the back of Matt's head with his hand. His hair is still damp.

"If you moved into my apartment, I'd get evicted."

"And we'd be punk rock."

"Oh come on, we're already punk rock! We'd pass some kind of threshold." Dave is not sure where he comes up with words like 'threshold' at two thirty. "Get your elbow out of my ribcage, dick." Matt says something inaudible. "What?"

"I'm tired."

"You did _not_ say 'I'm tired'. Whatever you said, it had a lot more words in it."

"I said 'get out of my brain, you bastard,'" Matt admits.

"You get out of mine first."

"Race you."

\---

This is how they pass the time until the numbers on Dave's alarm clock turn to 3:00.

\---

"I need to sleep," says Dave then.

"Yeah, me too," says Matt.

Dave understands Matt's body language just fine, and even though every single bone is crying out 'yes, yes, please let me sleep,' Matt's eyes are saying something else and so Dave kisses him. And then Matt's kissing back and they're rearranging to accommodate knees between legs and hands under shirts.

And so on.

\---

This is how arguments tend to get resolved between the two of them. Dave's given up counting how many times.


End file.
